His Eyes
by TheOnlyPotato
Summary: Effie would have to say her favorite thing about him was his eyes. {{A little insight on Hayffie pre-74th Games and post-rebellion.}} A bit of Effie's thoughts on Haymitch, on what happened the day *SPOILER ALERT* Snow and Coin died and why her favorite part about Haymitch was his eyes.


**His Eyes**

_Her favorite thing about him was his eyes._ They were gray specked with blue and in the right sunlight, they took on almost a soft teal color. They always shined with aggression though and on the few times she coaxed him out of the bottle and into the real world, that glassy look would fade and they would glisten with clarity and wisdom. They were angry eyes on most days, and when she was lucky, they were smart.

On a rare occasion, he'd go too far with her and she'd bite back some snippish remark other than "insufferable hairless ape" and he would laugh, the laugh lines around those perfect eyes crinkling and his stare approving and amused. The happening was off-handed, and she would have never noticed the way he approved of her if she hadn't have been looking at him closely. Always the observer, she had come to know herself as.

And on the bad days, when the loss of a tribute was too much and it felt like watching him kill himself, they would cloud over with rage and oppression, and that blind fury would be taken out on her in cutting words and bruising kisses. He would grip her waist and spew hateful words into her ear as he fucked her - sometimes the most crass words were the words needed to thoroughly explain a situation - and then he would pin her up against the wall and kiss her with so much love that she thought it was a dream. His eyes would flutter closed and when he came, he would mutter his girlfriend's name and she'd try not to cry. Those were the only moments where he would see her as a momentary equal and not someone to degrade constantly, and that was only because he saw her as someone else. But, selfishly, she treasured those days, and eventually, nights because at the time, they were all she could get from him.

But the absolute worst way to see his eyes were when he'd stumble in after a "sponsor", bleeding and cut-up and so worn down that his eyes were puffy with tears and watery, and they were sad and frustrated and emotional. She held him, those times. She held him while he sobbed like a child and grasped onto her so he would feel something and then she cleaned him up and put him to bed. Then, once she'd given him a couple of muscle relaxers mixed with the hard stuff he brought from home and those pretty eyes were squeezed shut against some nightmare, she'd cry too. She'd cry and wail at what her home had done to her love, how they had to destroyed him so easily. She'd cry and she'd try not to think about those eyes, so distraught and childish, like they were beseeching a motherly comfort instead of a romantic one.

Her favorite moment of all their moments spent together was when Katniss shot Coin. She'd been standing beside him, her nails digging into his palms and her face wiped of the muck they'd forced her into. Her honey blonde hair hair, chopped and split from her torturers, blew freely in the slight of breeze. Had it been different circumstances, she would have been calm and serene and even allowed herself to be happy.

"She's not going to do it," he had muttered under his breath, more so to himself than to her, even though she was the only one standing beside him, sans the heavily-armored rebel soldiers and the nurse from the mental hospital that followed her everywhere. She'd scoffed, wrinkling her nose in annoyance.

"Don't be silly. Of course she'll do it. Now hursh, before we miss it." He'd silenced himself then, pulling her subconsciously closer into his side. Why she got the faintest notion he wasn't talking about Katniss killing Snow, she didn't know. All she knew is that whatever happened from that point on would be for the better of Panem, and that Katniss was a smart girl and would know exactly what to do.

Katniss loaded the arrow and aimed it at Snow. At that moment, she'd buried her face into his shirt and inhaled his familiar scent of ash, cheap cologne and alcohol. She couldn't bear to watch the man she'd called 'Uncle Lanus' since she was four die. No matter what wrong he'd done to her or her lover, if she watched that after seeing everything she had seen down in those cells... Effie heard the nurse breifly encourage her to look away, and had to bite back a remark of 'I'm already doing that, you dumb bitch'.

There was the sharp twang of Katniss' bow and Effie squeaked. Haymitch held her close, she could feel his fist against her back through the thin fabric of the hospital gown they made her wear. Her hands fisting at his shirt, she heard him inhale sharply before breathing out again. When she tried to get a peek, all she saw was the flurry of rebel soldiers and heard the sick and garbled laughter of her ex-President resonating through the circle. Had Katniss not made the death shot? Had she chosen to give Snow a painful and long-lasting death for what he'd done to her sister? As much as Effie had grown to dislike the man, she knew what torture felt like and she desperately hoped that her ears were fooling her and Katniss hadn't put him through an agonizingly slow death. Effie would never forgive her for that.

Looking up, trying to get a peek and either confirm or decline her suspicions, Effie's eyes - a soft, pale blue that had always appeared so plain compared to his - focused on Haymitch's face, at the way his lips curled up into a smile. So Katniss ending it quickly for him then."She did it. It's over, princess. It's all over." The breath of relief that passed through her chapped and dry lips was the first breath of air she'd taken since she realized she was in love with a Victor. It was a breath of freedom.

She tried to look, tried to get a glimpse at the former President, but Haymitch caught her chin in his calloused hands and turned her head so she would face him. He didn't want her to see, and she didn't know why. Didn't she deserve that justice after watching her lover be pimped out by the man for years? Didn't she deserve the small clarity that President Coriolanus Snow no longer had a grapple on her life?

Nervously, Effie moistened her lips when she realized that he wanted a victory kiss. They'd never kissed in public, it had always been too embarassing, and later, when they fell in love, too dangerous for them to have their affairs put out in the open like that. Besides, Haymitch wasn't known for public displays of affection and he sure as hell wasn't known to openly admit any feelings for anyone besides his dead friends and family. Where he knew he couldn't hurt them by confessing so.

But he pressed his lips fiercely against hers, and Effie didn't waste any time in responding. The kiss was watery with both their tears, and it tasted salty like the ocean. She expected the urge to close her eyes to come over her like it always did when she kissed him or anyone else, but she kept them open and locked on Haymitch, who's soft gray-blue eyes weren't closed either. They stared each other down while they kissed, nothing hungry or dominant or loving about it. It was a sad kiss, one someone shared when they said goodbye. Maybe that's what they were doing. Saying goodbye to the old regime, goodbye to all the sorrows that god awful Snow had caused them for years on end. Maybe they were saying goodbye to a life of secrecy and stolen kisses, or maybe he was finally giving up on that dead girlfriend of his, and Maysilee and opening his heart up to her. Effie desperately hoped that was the case.

"It's over," Haymitch smiled, when he pulled away. His eyes were alight with happiness and sadness, and Effie knew the meaning of 'it's over' was much deeper than she thought,. She knew he wouldn't have just been saying 'it's over' if Snow had died as planned and everything had fallen into place. She knew something was dreadfully wrong, and in the next couple of minutes this moment may or may not be ripped from them, only for her to be planted back in those cold and dark cells and for him to be back through the hell of a detox. But she pushed that to the back of her head and smiled back.

"It's over," she agreed, her voice hoarse from months of underuse and then hours of screaming her nightly terrors away.

Haymitch nodded, pushing her honey locks behind her ears and the look in his eyes screamed a thousand 'I love you's' and promised a thousand more to come.

Yes, Effie would always say _her favorite thing about him was his eyes._


End file.
